2001-05-27 - 10:20 p.m.

On the internal soundtrack: Another one of those unidentified classic rock songs from the radio.

So, I was again a source of great entertainment to the guys at the shooting range today.

I borrowed Poindexter's 9mm, because I figured I really had better try getting used to the higher calibers. I figured I'd try 20 rounds and pat myself on the back about that.

The Glock has a really annoying way of ejecting shell casings all over the goddamn place. Or maybe they're just big enough that I notice. My .22 shell casings are tiny and I rarely notice them popping out.

Shell casings are very hot. They were just exposed to a controlled mini-explosion, remember.

So around round eight, one of these large shell casings flew into. my. shirt.

It slid down and nestled itself into my bra in the space between my boobs and proceeded to burn the hell out of me.

I started flailing around trying to pull my shirt and bra away from my body so that the casing would fall through. It took a couple of tries. I looked up to find the three men in the front office laughing and slapping their knees, and one of them applauded. Billy said later, "I've never seen you move so fast."

I'd imagine it was pretty funny.

So I have a little burn there now. Billy gave me some salve, which helped quite a bit, psychologically if nothing else.

Poindexter told me I had to stop wearing such low-cut shirts. I wasn't, though. But it was a wide enough collar (kind of a boat-neck) so that when both my arms were extended in front of me holding the gun, it created a gap just big enough for a 9mm shell casing to fall into.

Later I worried what I had done with the gun when this happened. I hoped I wasn't throwing it around while trying to get the casing out. One of the guys told me that he saw me using both hands on the shirt (and I'd imagine that a heterosexual male would be quite observant in this sort of situation), so I must have had the presence of mind to put the gun down safely first. That's good to know.

If there is one aspect of American culture that I have a great deal of fondness for, it would have to be Harley-Davidson biker culture.

On Friday night I dropped in to get some Korean takeout at a place that was next to a hotel. As I was leaving, a bunch of people on Harleys were making their way into the hotel parking lot.

I love those motorcycles. I love the deep, deep rumble. I love how classic they look. I love the people who ride them -- mostly middle-aged folks, guys with long beards, biker moms in leather, "dykes on bikes", all of it. Whenever I stop to talk to someone on a Harley-Davidson, they turn out to be really down-to-earth, nice folks, traveling on their motorcycle to see the country.

I love that they display the American flag. This country is sorely lacking in patriotism, and it warms the cockles of my heart to see people who are proud of their country, or at the very least, in what they believe their country to be.

I presume they're in town for some kind of Memorial Day rally -- I'll have to try to find out. Lots of the bikes had POW-MIA flags as well.

Poindexter told me a story about a walk back from lunch that has made me insanely jealous.

He and a coworker were walking outside in Crystal City, and heard some very loud jet engines. They looked up to see three fighter jets, flying very low in the sky. Poindexter thinks they were F-18s.

They disappeared from view behind a building, and then the guys heard one jet open the throttle. Next thing you know, there's a jet going straight up into the air above the buildings.

Goddamn. Holy shit.

It leveled off and then all three jets took off into the distance.

I am so, so jealous. I would love to have seen that.

We've been watching a lot of movies. "Forces of Nature", "X-Men", "Eye of the Beholder", and "The Green Mile". I recommend "X-Men" and "The Green Mile". "Forces of Nature" worked for me, but not for Poindexter. "Eye of the Beholder" was really stupid; only good for die-hard Ewan and Ashley fans.

As a result of all this movie-watching, we're talking about movies too. Saturday morning, while lazing in bed and talking (i.e. "working on our marriage"), I asked Poindexter which of the mutant powers he'd want to have if he could choose one.

He originally wanted to control people's minds, "because then I could make all the hot chicks do my bidding".

Me, I think I'd like to be the Mystique character. Be able to change my appearance at will. I could get into a lot of places I'm currently not allowed if I had that power. I noted to Poindexter that if he could make himself look however he liked, he could attract quite a few hot chicks that way.

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